Page 5 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
Amos grinned. ‘It was a brilliant day, wasn’t it? You did well I think?’
‘I did fantastically! I can’t believe it,’ she squealed, giving a little jump of excitement. ‘I just hope I can pull it off. It’s a lot of work you know.’
‘The best things often are, but I’m happy to help. It’s very kind of you to let me stay.’
‘It’s purely mercenary believe me – kindness has nothing to do with it!’ She laughed. ‘I need your manpower.’
The kitchen doorway darkened for a second as Gareth’s bulky frame passed through it.
‘Let me do that, love,’ he said with a pointed look at Amos. He took the kettle from Freya. ‘You must be exhausted. Go and sit down for a bit, and I’ll rustle up something for your tea.’
Amos looked from one to the other. ‘I’ll maybe go and check that the chooks have put themselves to bed, shall I?’
Freya nodded gratefully as Amos made himself scarce.
‘Oh, I had the most brilliant day, Gareth,’ she launched in before he could start. She really wasn’t in the mood for an argument tonight. ‘We sold everything, and I got an incredible price for the mistletoe, but not only that, Tom placed an order with me for wreaths and decorations for the hotel. He said he was really impressed with them. Of course Merry might have had a hand in that, but I don’t care, they want thirty-two of each for next Saturday; can you believe it?’
He came up behind her then, sliding his arms around her waist and nuzzling the side of her neck.
‘See I told you you were amazing. That’s fantastic news, Freya,’ he said, dropping a soft kiss on the weak spot just behind her ear. ‘Is that why he’s here?’
She tried not to stiffen. ‘I need help, Gareth, that’s all. I met him on the road today and offered him a lift. He wasn’t going in any particular direction, so I suggested he give me a hand at the fair. He was incredibly helpful today, lugging stuff around for me, and he really got the buyers going. He has nowhere to go tonight; I couldn’t just leave him there.’
‘And that’s your problem because? You can’t keep picking up waifs and strays just because you feel sorry for them.’
‘He’s not a waif and stray; he’s a person, Gareth. I know you don’t like him, but he’s done nothing wrong, and I didn’t pick him up because I feel sorry for him. He’s not looking for pity if that’s what you think; he’s willing to work hard for his bed and board. Considering what I’ve got coming up this next week, I’m going to need all the help I can get.’
Gareth pulled back a little and moved his hands to cup her face. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. You know nothing about this man, and yet you’ve invited him into our home, at a time when you’re feeling very vulnerable.’
‘Oh, I get it,’ said Freya, pulling her head back. ‘You’ve nothing to be jealous about you know, I’ve told you a hundred times. Amos is old enough to be my…dad,’ she choked, the words sticking suddenly in her throat, and with that, she burst into tears, all the day’s tension and anxiety catching up with her.
She clung to Gareth as he rubbed her back, pulling her woollen hat from her head and burying his face in her hair, which always smelled of apples.
‘I should have made you some tea. I’m sorry, I just didn’t think. Look, why don’t I run you a bath, and I’ll bring you a tray up to bed? You’re exhausted, and a good night’s sleep will do you the world of good.’
She rubbed her cheek against the softness of his sweatshirt, wanting so much to accept his platitudes and allow herself to be pacified. But there was still a spark of hurt inside her that wouldn’t go away. She was tired, she was overwrought and emotional, but more than that she was excited and elated with her success today. She wanted someone to share that excitement with and help her to plan. She wanted interested questions and to share a common sense of purpose. She wanted to feel encouraged. Slowly, she disentangled herself from Gareth’s arms.
‘Was your phone not working today? Only I sent you quite a few messages. I thought you might have wished me luck.’
Gareth squeezed her arms and turned back to the kettle on the stove as it began its whistling alert. ‘Sorry love, it’s a bit awkward at work. You know how it is.’
2
Amos stood and watched as the car made its way down the track, Gareth’s exhaust billowing white clouds into the icy morning air. He’d spotted Freya going into the henhouse a few minutes earlier and hoped that’s where he’d find her now. He felt somehow that he should apologise, although he was well aware that he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.
She was talking to herself when he got there, or rather to the hens, a continual sing-song stream of chatter as one might talk to a child. He lifted the latch on the door of the coop and cleared his throat.
‘Scrambled eggs on toast or an omelette?’ said Freya, without turning around. Amos’ mouth began to water, and his stomach gave an appreciative lurch. Staying for tea hadn’t seemed such a good idea last night. ‘Please tell me you didn’t sleep in the barn last night?’ she added.
When he didn’t answer, she whirled around to face him, three eggs in one hand and two in the other. ‘Right, come with me,’ she said.
Amos followed her meekly back into the kitchen, which, after the air outside, felt rather like a sauna, but right now, the most comforting place on earth. Freya set the eggs down on the table, holding her hand over them just for a second to be sure they didn’t roll. ‘Sit down a minute.’ Amos did as he was told.
A few minutes later, she placed a huge mug of tea and a plate of toast swimming in butter in front of him. She motioned for Amos to start eating. ‘Right, while you’re tucking into that lot, let’s get a couple of things straight, shall we? Firstly, can I just say that I’m sorry that Gareth is being such a prat.’
Amos looked up sharply at her words, but she held her hand up to finish. ‘This is my house, and who I invite into it is my business. I know Gareth is my boyfriend, and perhaps I sound a bit disloyal, but he’s got no right to moan about you being around, especially when he’s so completely uninterested in everything I’m trying to do here. We’ve got a busy week ahead, and I haven’t got time to pander to his selfish and childish arguments.’ She stared at Amos to check whether he was still following her. ‘Secondly, you have a room in the house and a bathroom which you are very welcome to use, so please Amos, don’t sleep in the barn; it’s bloody freezing out there.’
Amos took a slug of tea and hacked off the corner of a piece of toast. ‘Rant over?’ He smiled.
